A Sudden Summer's Snow
by VioletVendetta363
Summary: When I opened my eyes, the clouds had covered the sun, and for some reason, I felt the atmosphere around me had changed drastically, not just because the loss of radiance from the sun had dimmed my surroundings. Everything felt ...colder. The sounds all around me seemed to die down until they seemed to disappear. Silence. It was the only thing I truly believed was noise.


**A/N: I originally planned this to be a multi-chapter story, but now, I'm not so sure...It would be a big help if you guys told me if I should continue this... Thanks. The narrator is just an "other character". Enjoy!**

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A Sudden Summer's Snow

When I was a child, I was easily distracted by the smallest of things.

I felt fascinated, with wonderings normal people wouldn't lift an eyebrow upon.

The tiny particles of dust that burst and scattered into the air, when you gently tore a piece of tissue paper apart. It reminded me of the snowflakes in winter, how they fell so softly and silently like feathers, yet so cold and fragile like the surface of a lake when the ice that spread out to coat it in a gleaming splendor wasn't quite strong enough to walk on.

The subtle twitch of fingers, accompanied with the averting of eyes when someone had something to hide. It was amazing how if you noticed the tiny things, the small differences in movement and expression when different emotions overtook people, it was almost like you could suddenly see the thoughts coursing through their mind in plain sight.

The way the innocent-seeming wispy clouds delighted in tricking the human eye into believing it was moving oh so slowly across the sky, when in truth it was racing rapidly, morphing, swirling into different shapes, as they seemed to break apart into smaller pieces and slowly evaporate into nothing, when out of nowhere another full cloud takes its place. Only if you watched very carefully, would you notice how swiftly they really moved.

I remember when it was late afternoon and the sun shone pleasantly over the fresh green meadows that grew rich with deep lavender and tender heather blossoms in full bloom, and I was running, my mind free of the thoughts, questions that clung to me every so tightly, just simply running as fast as my short nine year old legs could carry me, spreading out my arms behind me like I was flying. I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to be, a bird, butterfly or angel, all I knew was that I was flying.

Then suddenly a flicker of movement in the air caught the attention of my constantly wary blue eyes. A little dandelion seed was bobbing happily, bouncing, sailing along with the honey sweet summer winds. My mind ushered me to continue flying, spinning in circles in the soft rolling hills, escaping into my own little world, but the temptation was just too strong, urging me with too much insistence on following it, in hopes of grasping the tiny seed in the tight clutch of my curious little fingers.

It appeared to be floating rather slowly away from me, and really, it was, the winds were just so tricky like the clouds, whisking the seed right out of my reach the minute I came close to it. When I grabbed for it, the wind would take it in a short gust in whichever direction it assumed I wouldn't expect, it would suddenly jerk the opposite way, or it would jump, drifting playfully above me, out of my reach, then slowly back down, confusing me on whether it was truly the wind or the seed that was taunting me. Well, I suppose it may have been both. Well, that thought went in and out of my head in a second.

So over the hills I ran, chasing the seed in endless circles, until I finally got tired, and whether it was because I tripped, or I just simply grew tired of the winds taunting games, I plopped myself on the soft, tickling grass, laughing and smiling, reaching my arm out, trying to touch the clouds even though I knew they were too far away. Yet still I try, because someday, yes, someday I will reach them.

Normally, when people see things too far for their reach, they don't bother trying to get it; they just give up and try to divert their attention to something else. But then those things that are out of their reach eventually come to haunt them throughout their lives, popping out from the back of their minds randomly, making them feel a sense of being incomplete, no matter how well their life may be at the moment. I don't know what that feels like, and I never wish to know, for I'm pretty sure it doesn't feel very good.

The grass is cool and smooth between my fingers, and my legs hidden under the folds of my long white summer dress feel, maybe rather perspired and a little tired, but my mind was on other things, like how the tips of the grass tickled my toes and the soft touch of butterfly's feet on the tip of my nose. The confusing choice of words boggled my head for a moment, so I closed my eyes and decided to just listen to the sounds around me. I didn't call them noises, because, really, in the lively green meadows circled by towering evergreen pines which were circled with even taller mountain peaks, there was no such sound as noise. Everything was what it should be.

When I opened my eyes, the clouds had covered the sun, and for some reason, I felt the atmosphere around me had changed drastically, not just because the loss of radiance from the sun had dimmed my surroundings. Everything felt _colder_. The sounds all around me seemed to die down until they seemed to disappear. Silence. It was the only thing I truly believed was noise. Mother once told me noise was something people detested, so it was different for everyone. Well, I detest loneliness, coldness and the feeling of darkness, not actual blackness, just the dark, dreary feeling inside of you. And it seemed silence had all three attributes. I hated silence. It made me uncertain, unsure. It made me afraid.

"Are you looking for this, little girl?" A smooth male voice spoke softly.

I felt drawn to the voice; it had a kind tone, but my instinct reminded me it also sounded like the people who tried to lure you with candy in their open hands.

But I was a child, only nine that time, so it was only natural that I was curious.

I slowly got up, my bright blue eyes getting hopelessly lost in the deep crimson eyes of a tall, rather slender, pale man fully clad in black except for his hands that were covered by white gloves. His hair, black, kept rather long, swayed with the wind, that suddenly felt uncomfortably cold, like the harsh gusts in the winter. One of his gloved hands were clenched tight in a fist and his other hand gently took one of mine, placing the tiny object in my fingers. It was the dandelion seed.

Earlier, the seed was a lively, happy thing, but now it seemed like pure nonsense to even think that. The seed itself had withered to a shriveled black and the several tiny white feather-like tufts around it drooped sadly. But that wasn't what frightened me.

The once white seed was soaked in dark, slick blood; my hand now stained a deep red. I noticed now the man's gloves weren't perfectly white either; they were blood stained too and so was his tailcoat and vest, even though the stains were difficult to see because the clothing itself was black, so they just appeared as dark, wet patches.

My confused eyes strayed to the hills behind him, and I gasped, my eyes widened, for they had frozen, the grass having turned to icy white, coated with frost while it appeared that snow was gently falling from the sky, covering the places the frost couldn't reach. In the stark white ground, his trail of crimson blood was plain to see. It was long, going on for miles without end. Suddenly my mind was piecing things together.

The blood on his fingers.

The blood on the seed.

He killed someone.

I backed away, my lower lip quivering tentatively, fingers trembling, my frightened eyes wide, innocent, begging not to be tainted by the evil he seemed to possess.

But the man only grinned, moving closer, his bloodied fingers reaching out to playfully caress my upper lip. I tasted the rust and salt; the wet blood felt sticky, mixing with the saliva that seemed to trickle slightly from my subtly parted mouth as a defense from the sudden cold surrounding me, keeping my lips from turning blue and cracking. He drew closer until his face was only inches from mine and he seemed to smile kindly, though I found an undeniable hint of murderous intent.

"Is it not what you wanted, little girl?"

"I…I…well…" I couldn't bring myself to utter anymore.

He pursed his lips, averting his crimson eyes the cold, grey sky, seeming the slightest bit disappointed accompanied with possible shrewd annoyance.

"Oh, dear…You know, although I did have some fun tearing the little boy into pieces, I did go into quite some trouble to get this seed you so desperately wanted…"

"You…you _killed_ a child…?" I asked, unable to comprehend how he could speak of taking a life so easily, like it was something out of the ordinary.

"Well, not _quite_…if he has immediate attention at his torn limbs and severe blood loss, he _can_ be saved…"

"But this is a meadow…there is no one here but you and me and that little boy…" I whispered, suddenly remembering the fear I had of this man.

He grinned wider, eyes narrowing, delicately licking at the fresh blood on his fingertips.

"Exactly. You are such a smart little girl. I was originally planning an explanation, but it seems there is no need,"

Right before my body hit the frozen, winter-woven grass, from shock; he caught me in his long black-sleeved arms, and as I marveled at their strange warmth, he softly stroking my face with his bloodied, gloved fingers. The blood made sharp streaks that became dull smudges from my tears that sprung unexpectedly powerful and constant from my confused eyes. Though his arms were warm and snug, his lips were cold and startling as they kissed the skin on my forehead, whispering comforting words, though my mind processed anything but.

"You can still save him, little girl. All you have to do is ask,"

I swallowed painfully and thought words of hatred towards myself. All these nine years, I'd been distracted by tiny things, too often to bother thinking about what was truly important. The consequences had never been too harsh, so I never thought of it as much of a deal when something went in my favor, but hurt someone else. Now was different.

I took one last look at the dying, crimson drenched seed, suddenly seeing myself in its reflection. Could that be me, if I continued to go on like this? Dead before I even had a chance to truly grow? I sniffed sharply and crushed the seed in my fingers, throwing it angrily into the snow, making an ugly red spatter on the once perfect white field.

"Save him…save him…save him…!" I had started as a whisper, but ending with the note of my voice in drowned, screeching tone that could easily be on par with a murder of crows.

The man gave me a quick smile and carrying me in his warm, velvet arms, he whisked us away in a blur of moving limbs.

All I remembered after that was the little boy, barely half my age, being pieced back together, like a puzzle and in the sudden, professional seeming handiwork of the strange man, appeared alive, though still rather injured and utterly confused when I suddenly grasped him in my cold, desperate arms, crying, laughing and never wanting to let him go, like he was my own brother. Even though I could not see his face, I felt his warm smile and the tears rolled faster down my cheeks when I felt his small arms return a weak hug to me.

I felt him trace the word _angel_ on my back, very slowly with his tiny index finger and I hugged him harder, like he was worth more than anything in the world. Maybe even worth more than my own life.

The man was looking at me absently, and it happened in a flash, but I believe I caught a look of love, compassion, even though I so deeply believed someone who attempted murder could never have such a look in his guilty, dark eyes. I felt gratitude towards him, even though the thanks weren't easy to immediately see. Suddenly I felt a sense of control because I saw the big picture for once, not distracted at all by the tiny moving things all around it.

I no longer saw the frost coating the individual blades of grass.

I never bothered to notice the man's sudden disappearance into the hills, until he was already long gone.

I no longer noticed the little snowflakes slowly descending from the heavens.

All I saw was heaven, not because of the glorious sparks of beauty around me, but simply because I was in it.

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** A/N: Well, I'm probably going to keep this a oneshot, but let me know if you really want this to be continued. See you guys later.**


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